Attention
by signefalls
Summary: "A thought occurs to him, not for the first time, that maybe she never says anything about what he grudgingly admits is classic attention grabbing behavior, because she simply does not care." A night of beginnings for Kitty and John. KYRO.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first foray outside of my usual fandom, and it is all my beloved Gertrude's fault. It's a departure from my usual style, but I hope the usual suspects will enjoy it anyways. :D

Disclaimer: Don't own. Stan Lee etc...

Time period: Set in the relatively peaceful time after Rouge and Wolverine's arrival at Xavier's, but before Liberty Island. This is Kyro. John wouldn't let me write anything else.

* * *

John's eyes blur over the open page in his Biology textbook. A glance at the library clock and he realizes he's been staring at the same damn page for the last 20 minutes. Mitosis, meiosis, why-should-he-give-a-fucsis? He wants to slam the book closed, shove it away from himself and jump out of his chair, maybe even let it topple over, just to hear the jarring, crashing noise of wood hitting tile as he got the hell out of the library.

It would be the patented Pyro storm off. And the people sharing the table with him: Rogue, Bobby, Kitty... would barely notice. He already knew what would come after he turned his back and walked away.

_"What's his deal?"_ Rogue would probably ask.

_"Does he have to have a 'deal'? That's just Pyro,"_ Bobby would shrug his shoulders, dismissively.

_"Think he's PMSing?"_ Rogue would joke lightly and Bobby would give her a half smile and return to his notes.

He's heard variations of that conversation before, in the midst of his storm off. His hearing isn't feral quality, like Wolverine's, but it's better than they think.

There's a part of him that has wanted to answer them in the past. Tell the people he almost calls friends, that he's tired, he's fucking exhausted. That bad dreams haunt his nights and he can't always shake them during the day.

_"Well, gee guys... you see, in my nightmares I'm my step father's fucking punching bag all over again. Or I'm running away from a burning house, my mom screaming my name, or I'm in some back alley in New York City, half starved and always bruised... so forgive me if I get a little cranky about fucking Biology, 'cause it just. doesn't. matter."_

He's thought about saying it, but he won't 'cause most everybody has a sob story at Mutant High, and how pathetic is it for Pyro to be weak enough to let all that past shit bother him. _Still_.

John slouches in his seat, stubbornly looking at the words about cell division without reading them. He has a feeling this new girl Rogue deals with some of the same shit that he does, but Bobby or Kitty? The thought almost makes him laugh. Bobby is so _good._ He's even heard Bobby defend him when others complain about his asshole stunts... but Bobby is frowning at him now, pointing to the textbook.

"Dude, we have a test tomorrow."

"So?" John sneers.

"So," Rogue jumps in as she turns to face him, "we need to study, or at least I do. This is the biggest test I've had since I started here. I don't want to screw up."

"You'll do great, Rogue. You've been studying really hard," Kitty says softly with a little smile that Rogue returns, and then drops her eyes back to her notes.

John is pretty sure Kitty is just as goody-goody as Bobby, if not more so. When Rogue and Bobby joke about his storm offs, she never says a word. It almost disappoints him, that she is so unimpressed with his theatrics. He steals a glance at her. She's leaning over the table, resting on her elbow and chewing on her highlighter cap. She frowns and then yanks the highlighter from its cap to highlight some particularly fascinating bit of information.

A thought occurs to him, not for the first time, that maybe she never says anything about what he grudgingly admits is classic attention grabbing behavior, because she simply does not care.

They share classes, mutual friends, a dorm... he shares her space and she allows him to do so because she is easy going like that, but he doesn't_ matter_ to her. He makes no impact.

John grunts in frustration and repeatedly clicks his Zippo in one hand while doodling with his pen on his notebook with his other. He can partially see Kitty through the hair hanging in his eyes. She frowns in earnest as her eyes flit to his lighter.

"John," she says quietly with a sigh.

He looks up and sees he has her full attention now. He smirks as he stares at her,

"Yes, Kitty?" he asks too innocently.

"Can you please?" she leaves the rest of her words unspoken. He wonders what her brain has filled in mentally... _can you please go away, can you please stop being so damn obnoxious._

Her wide brown eyes are unblinking. She waits for him to respond and suddenly his is annoyed. Annoyed at her cute little face, lips, pert tilt of her nose. Her everything. It's not like she's a fucking model. He glares harder. She's just a … a girl. A short, quiet, too smart... _girl._

With impossibly soulful eyes that currently seem to be staring right through him. And he cares, damn it. He cares what this slip of a girl thinks of him.

He meets her gaze squarely and decides that he will be immune to her _everything._ He smirks as she drops her eyes. He snaps the lighter- _click, click, click, click!_ before closing it with a hard snap. That is her answer. Her proximity may be doing funny things to the rhythm of his heart, but he is still Pyro, the asshole... this is the kind of shit he does. This is what they expect.

She lets out her breath and closes her eyes,

"Fine. Like you'd listen to_ me_ of all people."

She mumbles those last words, in quiet frustration and John now wants to kick his own ass, for being such a giant one and not being able to stop... ever. Even for Kitty and her big brown eyes, saying please.

"Ignore him, Kits... tune 'im out. I do," Rogue says as she shoots him a warning look.

John takes in Rogue's_ I'm thinking about taking my glove off and hurting you_ glare, Bobby's resigned bemusement and then he glances at Kitty. She's back to studying. He can see her eyes moving along to the text on the page.

He is already forgotten.

The impulse to leave is stronger now, and this time he does not ignore it. He stands up, but silently, oddly enough... moving his chair out and then pushing it back in. The three of them are staring at him again, like they do so often.

And he wants to snarl, call them pansy ass losers and that he has better things to do... but suddenly he's tired of it, his usual schtick, because Kitty's gaze is on him now and she looks  
_disappointed._

He pulls his books into his arms and sighs. He should say _something_, but nothing clever comes to mind, so instead one words slips out. One that he hardly ever says.

"Sorry."

He mutters it under his breath and then walks out of the room, but not with his usual stride. The door closes softly behind him.

He leans against the door and peers into the darkness of the empty corridor. He flicks his lighter on. Pulls the flame, and soon he holds fire in his hand. First a glowing orb, then bigger, brighter... blue-ish white, golden orange flames, dancing as they spin under his control. John smiles as the fire heats his face. The orb changes as his thoughts drift back to faces on the other side of the door. Ribbons of heat twist and curve over his open palm, forming an outline of a woman, drawn in flame.

It takes him a second to realize he's cradling Kitty's likeness in his palm. He closes his fist quickly to snuff the fire out and walks away.

* * *

A/N part 2: I have a few more chapters for this story and I can't wait to post them! John may need his Zippo to light his fire... but for me? Reviews! They are the best fire to feed the muse! :)

Fan the flames, baby and Happy Valentine's Day!


	2. Chapter 2

John lays flat on his back in bed, hours later, his hands behind his head. His eyes refuse to stay closed in sleep so he gives up trying. He's used to insomnia, but this time it isn't years of shitty memories keeping him up, it's wishing he could stare through his ceiling.

Kitty is in the room above his. He's known this for a while and has rarely given it a passing thought, but tonight he's very aware of the 12 feet of air that separates the two of them. He wonders if she's sleeping already. Probably. She probably sleeps like a baby, curled up with a teddy bear, hand tucked under her chin. She is too, too..._ adorable_, he thinks before he can stop himself.

Just what did she mean about listening to her, "of all people"? She's never said anything like that before. She's never said, "please" either...

He wants to know that's in her head. If he affects her at all. And so even though it's another immature asshole thing to do, he smirks and reaches to open the drawer in his nightstand. A super bouncy ball. He's not even sure where he picked it up from, but it will serve his purpose perfectly._ Like rocks against a window_, he thinks. All he needs now is some old school boombox playing some sappy song and he'll know he's totally lost his mind.

_Bounce._

_Bounce._

_Bounce._

He waits. Nothing. No doubt she's a heavy sleeper, dreaming of running through fields with her pink unicorn, or puppies or rainbows or some shit like that. Perseverance. That's the key. A few more bounces. Then a few more. He's about to give up and throw the ball through the window. He really needs to fall asleep and wake up not an idiot. He lets out a deep sigh and then a little yelp as a face suddenly appears above him.

"What the hell do you want, John?" she hisses.

His smile grows. He can't help himself. He shrugs as he clutches the bouncy ball in his hand.

"Hi," he says, still smiling.

"Hi? HI?!" she whispers loudly.

She phases her whole body through the ceiling and lands on top of his bed. Her hand is on her hip and she is wearing flannel pajama bottoms, he guesses they are purple, with an oversized grey t-shirt. She looks like she's drowning in it. Her hair is loose and every which way. She is glaring mightily... and he finds the whole picture about as sexy as can be.

He props himself up on his elbows, his sheet falls down his bare chest. She notices, the fury on her face falters for a moment as her eyes travel briefly over his half naked form. The anger quickly returns but even that glimpse that she is aware of him, affected by him makes his stomach twist, just a little.

"Yeah... hi. I may not be wearing any pants either, Kitkat."

She purses her lips and wrinkles her nose.

"You're a jerk. I was almost asleep. I'm leaving. Don't you dare pull this stunt again."

Her feet are already a foot off the bed when he grabs her ankle. His attitude drops like a stone.

"Wait, Kitty, please... I wanted to talk to you." he says with a touch of desperation.

"Why?" she looks down, blinking, genuinely confused.

He sits up fully, folds his legs indian style and gently tugs on her pant leg to have her sit next to him. He takes the fact that he's not grasping at air as an encouraging sign as she cautiously sits down.

"You really weren't sleeping?" he asks instead of answering her question.

"No... I have a hard time getting to sleep most nights," she grudgingly answers.

"How come?" he asks, surprised they have this in common.

"I dunno. Lots of reasons. Homesick, worrying about school, the next Danger Room session, take your pick."

"I never hear you," he responds lamely.

"I'm quiet," she answers... quietly.

"Yeah, I've noticed."

Her frown is back again and she moves away slightly.

"You still haven't answered my question. What's so damn important. What did we have to talk about at midnight, instead of waiting for morning?"

"It's really that late?" he is stalling and he knows it.

She must know it too. She makes herself comfortable on his bed, sitting across from him, indian style like he is, her arms crossed. Her mouth is stubbornly silent.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. It immediately falls back in his eyes as he ducks his head.

"Why did you say you, 'of all people'? What does that mean?" he asks finally, lamely. He is internally cursing himself. He had no plan of what he would say, if he actually got her to phase into his room.

"That couldn't wait until morning?" she asks tilting her head at him. She doesn't look angry anymore, just confused.

"I guess not."

He wishes he had his lighter in his hand. His fingers feel fidgety without it, but it's over on his desk and he doesn't want to annoy her any more than he already has. He hears her sigh.

"I don't understand you, John."

He likes the way he says his name, that she calls him John and not Pyro... although he never introduces himself as anyone but Pyro. He finds this internal contradiction weird.

"I don't understand myself, most of the time, so join the club."

She frowns and rolls the fabric of her flannel pants between her fingers.

"You really want the answer to that question?" she glances up at him, with her lip between her teeth.

"Ummm, yeah. Bounced a ball a whole bunch of times to ask you,_ soooo._"

She kinda smiles then and licks her lips nervously and suddenly he's imagining just leaning forward and kissing her. She's only two feet away from him now, maybe two and a half. That's not that far at all.

"Cause you're _Pyro_," she says with a slight eye roll, using air quotes for his preferred name. "You got a chip on your shoulder the size of New York and make sure everyone around you knows you don't give a shit... about what you do... or about what other people think or feel. So why would you give a shit about me, of all people?"

Her words sting a little, but they're mostly true. Or at least that's what he wants everyone to believe anyways, so he shouldn't be surprised that she bought what he was selling. But that last part, she said it again and now it's really starting to bother him.

"What, you think you're less important than everyone else or something?" he asks off handedly. She blinks and looks down again, saying nothing. Her brows furrow together though and he's startled. He's struck a nerve.

"You really believe that shit... about yourself?"

She tosses up her hands and blows her bangs out of her eyes.

"Alright, why the hell not? It's the middle of the night and for some reason you've been acting very un-John-like all evening and have this burning curiosity so... Yeah. I believe that. I try not to, but com'on. You could set a whole city ablaze if you wanted to, Bobby could freeze it, Wolverine, well he's like '_rawwwrrrr_'"

She growls and holds her hands out like claws and he can't help but chuckle a little at her mock ferociousness.

"Rogue can kill with a touch, Jean and the professor are crazy strong telepaths. Storm can decide to make it snow in the middle of July and me? I'm the girl who can become Casper."

She winces at the nickname and John does too, realizing he's used it more than once.

"I'm quiet, like you said and just keep my head down and try to live up to all these expectations that people have for me, about being an X-men someday maybe, but really the whole thing scares me to death and so some days, yeah... I wonder if it would be easier to just phase and stay there. Out of the way or something."

John's mouth drops open a little. He's a fucking mess and knows it, but Little Miss Perfect Kitty Pryde feeling sad, lonely, unsure of herself?. He wasn't expecting this. In another time or place he may have been tempted to make her regret ever opening up to him. Say she doesn't know shit about life or pain. He could tell her stories... well, she'd be begging him to stop with her hands over her ears, he's sure of it.

He just doesn't do sympathy, empathy. He doesn't do comfort. It is hard to give what he has rarely received, and yet... and _yet._

Kitty is sitting across from him, looking smaller than he's ever seen her. Her eyes are luminous windows into her soul and she can't stop the nervous fidgeting of her hands. He wants to gather her up in his arms, force some comforting words past his lips. He swallows hard._ Damn it, where are your balls, dude? Say something to her..._

"That's bullshit. All of it," he says with a little more force than he intends. Her eyes fly up to his. They are full of a fiery intensity that he's never seen before and he almost leans away from her before he catches himself.

"Yeah? If that's so true, why is _this_ the first real conversation we've ever had, huh? We've been eating at the same lunch table, going to the same classes, living in this dorm for over a year now."

She falls silent and his mind churns rapidly, trying to think of a good explanation for his supposed indifference, but he doesn't have one... other than the obvious; that he's a blind, ignorant asshole. He's about to reach over and put his hand on her shoulder, when she speaks again, so softly he almost can't hear her.

"I've told myself before that we were friends, but maybe that's just some kind of lie I believed so I'd feel better, since you barely paid attention to me."

John starts to laugh a little, he can't help himself really, and Kitty whips her head up, her spine stiffening. She opens her mouth in an "O", then snaps it closed again.

"You can go to hell... I can't even believe I..."

She begins to float up and John stops laughing as quickly as he started. He reaches out his hand and grabs her wrist, pulling her to himself. She hovers in hesitation but settles a few inches closer to him. He leans in and feels like an exceptional bastard because she has tears in her eyes and he certainly never meant to do that.

"I shouldn't've laughed. You know why I've been acting all, 'un-John-like'? Why I bounced this fucking ball and clicked my lighter in your face just to annoy you? To get_ your_ attention, Kitkat. Last few days, I've noticed more and more how you never notice_ me_ and it's pissing me off."

He smiles at her, trying to catch her eyes. His voice is uncharacteristically soft and she bites her lip, glancing up at him. The vulnerability he sees there reaches into his chest and squeezes. He takes a deep breath and continues.

"It's like I'm eight again and chasing you around the playground, trying to pull your ponytail... You know why boys do that, don't you, Kitty?"

She frowns at him and then her eyes widen a bit in understanding. He nods his head with a rueful smile.

"I'm noticing you, Kits... and I think you got it all wrong."

"Oh yeah, how?" she asks, her eyes flash in challenge as she leans in further to him.

He feels the anticipation in the air, the electricity. She looks scared, maybe a little flushed too. The tension in her body is a physical thing, washing over him. The moment hangs on an edge, teetering.

He gulps. _Do. not. fuck. this. up._

"You're important, to the X-Men, the school, friends, family... Everyone who meets you, likes you. You're smarter than most anyone I know, and you give a shit about so many different things, I'm exhausted just thinking about it, but on top of all that, you have a kick-ass power-"

She scoffs her disbelief, but he nods his head in insistance.

"No, really. You do. You could become to world's greatest cat burglar or spy. I've seen you in the Danger Room, you fight like hell, and if you wanted to? You could rip my heart out right now."

He suddenly grabs her hand and pulls her forward. She doesn't resist. He places her small hand over his rapidly beating heart and then covers it with his own.

"All you'd have to do right now," he whispers, "is phase your hand into my chest and_ pull._ I'd be a goner."

Her hands move slightly over his bare skin and he closes his eyes. He can hear her shallow breathing, feel her exhale against his chest.

"I would never do that, though," she says almost in wonder, she moves her hand out from under his and traces a heart over his heart with her fingers, burning her touch into his skin.

"I know you wouldn't. It's what makes you, you... good, strong..." he wets his lips and clears his throat. He brain has no more words, except one...

"Beautiful." he whispers. He is right against her mouth now. How did he get so close... too close.

"You're bullshiting me," her voice trembles.

"No... don't remember how to, just now."

"Oh... I-"

She doesn't finish because his lips are touching hers, gently. So gently. He doesn't know where the fuck this is coming from, but suddenly she's the most precious, fragile thing he's ever touched and even breathing her air warms him completely.

She kisses him back, a little whimper in the back of her throat. Her hands reach up to touch his face, the side of his neck with the palm of her hand and as she responds, he responds. The energy, the heat building... hotter than anything he's ever held in his hands before.

He pulls her fully into his arms until she is almost in his lap, then twists her light form down, still tight against him. Her head resting on his pillow, her back against his bed, her arms wrapping firmly around his neck and she still kisses him, allowing him to taste her. She is tentative at first, but as he deepens the kiss, she follows his lead, then surpasses it.

She feels so warm, so responsive, sexy as hell under his fingertips. He wants to touch her everywhere. He runs his hand up under her T-shirt, feeling her soft skin shudder under his touch. Over the narrow of her waist, the soft hollow of her stomach, to her ribs. He wants to see her, feel all of her and... shit.

He groans as he pulls away and rests his forehead against hers. She trembles underneath him, but he realizes he's trembling too as his arms shake supporting his weight over her. He tries to catch his breath and feels her shaky exhale against his cheek. It sends tingles straight through him.

"Why'd you stop?" she whispers as her hands slide down the bare skin of his back. He shivers.

"I don't know," he says, somewhat surprised himself. "Maybe I'm _not_ a total asshole."

He raises his head to meet her eyes with a half smile. She frowns and her lips almost pout. She looks thoroughly kissed by him and it only makes him smile wider.

"It's not like you're the first boy I've kissed, you know," she says quietly, almost defensively.

"Am I your second?" he asks as he nuzzles his nose against hers. Where the hell all this tenderness is coming from, he has no idea. It almost makes him uncomfortable, but then he reads the innocence in her eyes... it just stirs up more of the same feeling.

"Maybe, and what am I? Your-."

"Not as many as you'd think," he says before she can throw out a number, "and that's not why I stopped."

"So why did you?" she caresses his cheek with her hand, he leans into her palm and closes his eyes. She's asked him a question. He struggles to remember what it is over the sweetness of her touch, so he can answer. He opens his eyes. She is waiting. Her eyes reflect his own vulnerability.

"So you'll talk to me again without feeling weird. So maybe you'll let me kiss you tomorrow and the day after that and the day after..." he stops himself, realizing what he's implying. His heart hammers in his chest so loud he's sure she can hear it. His clamps his mouth shut, leans away from her abruptly and flops down next to her, eyes to the ceiling. His hand seems to have a mind of his own and seeks out hers.

She squeezes his hand tightly and raises herself up on her elbow. He can feel her eyes on him. He exhales slowly and turns to look at her. She's smiling, her eyes are bright in the darkness and she leans down, kissing him lightly before pulling back.

"Do you want to pass me a note? 'Do you like me, check the box yes or no?'"

She's smiling still, but he frowns, unsure if she's making fun of him. Her smile falters as she quickly continues.

"I'd check the box yes, you know. I probably would've from the first day I met you."

"Really?" his voice raises in surprise.

"Yeah... really. First day I met you, you winked at me. Do you remember that?"

"I do... sorta," he says, the vague memory returning of the first time he ever saw Kitty Pryde, "I remember thinking you were pretty, in a cute sorta way. Probably why I winked... then I remember thinking after a couple days that I'd never be your type."

She gives him a sad smile, then turns her body into his. He opens her arms so she can snuggle against his shoulder. Her hand rests against his heart again. He pulls her in closer, until he has both arms around her. She feels so good there. Like she belongs.

"So you knew my 'type', huh? I thought you were _hot_, John Allerdyce... and then I spent some time around you and thought you were cocky. Too cocky to give some short, quiet bookworm like me a chance."

She speaks softly against his chest, but he hears every word and squeezes her tightly.

"You think I'm hot, huh?" he smirks and she groans. He chuckles as he tucks her head under his chin.

"Well... you were right about the cocky part, and I was right about the smart part, but after that, I guess we both assumed-"

"You know what happens when you assume, right?" she interrupts. He can hear the smile in her voice, rather than see it. He pinches her arm lightly and she giggles.

"Ass out of you and me? Yeah... now_ shhhh_. I'm trying to ask you a question."

"Sorry," she says as she squeezes him tighter.

He sighs in contentment, but stops. He hasn't earned that feeling yet.

"So... will you give me chance?" he asks quietly, feeling damned vulnerable. The seconds before she answers are eternal.

"You're asking to... be with me, like together? Boyfriend/girlfriend type?"

He pulls away from her so he can look into those big expressive brown eyes of hers and says almost sadly,

"Should I have sent you a note instead? Check the box, yes or no?"

"Yes."

"Like yes, I should've sent you a note, or yes... yes?"

"Oh shut up," she laughs.

His heart skips a beat the moment before she kisses him. Sweet little kisses that make his stomach flip. He resists the urge to take them deeper and enjoys them instead, enjoys the slow pace. She stops and smiles at him, satisfied.

"Can I stay?" she asks suddenly, looking very nervous. His eyebrows shoot up.

"Here?" his mind races with some dirty thoughts, but he shoves them away.

"Yeah, just to... sleep. I'll go back to my room before we have to get ready for school."

"Hell yeah... Com'ere, Kitkat," he says as he pulls the blanket open for her before she can change her mind. She peeks in.

"You're wearing pajama bottoms," she notes as she pulls the covers over her.

"Are you disappointed?" he asks, his old cockiness slipping back into his voice.

"Maybe, just a little," she says as she turns away from him and wiggles herself back against his chest. His arm wraps around her, his hand finds her stomach and he tickles her lightly. She laughs and wiggles a little more. He grits his teeth together and pulls her tight to him to still her.

"You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"You're killing me, Kitty."

She only murmurs in response. Her breathing has already slowed. He forces his body to relax. Inhale the citrus scent of her hair, feel the warmth of her seeping into him. He's surprised after how worked up he's felt that he's able to enjoy her closeness and relax too.

"Go to sleep, John," she mutters.

"Mmmm. Night, Kitty."

* * *

A/N: Two parts down, one more to go! Please read and review! (Please?) :D


	3. Chapter 3

The bell is about to ring any second now and Kitty's class will be done. John leans against the wall close to the door and slouches, back pack over one shoulder, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other rolling his lighter over his fingers, back and forth. He is scowling out of habit, but his thoughts are actually much sunnier as he remembers waking up with Kitty in his arms.

He had been as startled as hell to see her petite form curled into his when he first opened his eyes, before he remembered-_ bouncy ball, talking, kissing, boyfriend/girlfriend type_. He had instantly stilled in an effort not to wake her. She was so damn peaceful, beautiful. But soon her dark lashes fluttered open and she smiled shyly up at him. They laid together for a few minutes in the soft stillness of the morning. He hadn't said much. It would've been too easy for him to screw up something so fucking perfect by running his mouth. She slipped out his arms shortly after, mumbling about getting ready for school and that she'd see him soon. She had kissed his cheek before phasing away.

He realizes now as he leans his head against the wall that for the first time in forever, his sleep had been nightmare free. He smirks as he thinks he'll have to tell Kitty that someday. Add it to her list of kick-ass powers.

He takes a deep breath and tries to be patient. Her clean citrusy scent lingers faintly on his skin. It's a tangible reminder that this is really real. It almost irritates him, how wrapped up he is in her, how much he wants to see her again... it's only been a few hours for God's sake... but all of that is forgotten as the bell rings and she's one of the first students to pop her head out the door.

She looks around, spots him quickly and her face lights up with a smile. His scowl fades in spite of himself as she walks up to him hesitantly. Her friend Jubilee is behind her and he holds in a sigh. This is first of probably many tests, trying out this whole "being together" thing because even though Jubilee annoys him, he knows she and Kitty are close.

"Hey, John," Kitty says, as she stops in front of him. Jubilee gives her a funny look and then stares at him openly with an eyebrow raised.

"Hey, Kitty... Jubilee,"

He smiles at Kitty first and then acknowledges her friend with a mild nod. Kitty holds her English book in one hand, but the other is free, so he reaches out and holds her hand, lacing her fingers with his own. Her smile is brighter, if that's possible, and she steps in closer to him.

"Didn't you have class first period?" she asks as Jubilee gapes.

"Thought the last part was optional. Wanted to walk you to your next class," he shrugs, like he's done this a hundred times, but he never has, for anyone.

"Really?" She bounces on her heels a little and her pony tail bounces with her. It makes him smile.

"Yeah. You're going to the Danger Room, right?" he asks awkwardly. He doesn't say that he wants to make sure she's feeling good before she goes in there because he knows how nervous she gets. But her wide eyes and her hand squeezing his give him an idea that she knows, that she wants him there.

"Yeah... thank you," she answers softly and she drops her eyes.

"Alright, what the hell is going on? You can't really be …? Like, when did this happen? How did I not know? Chica, we're close, right? You didn't say anything yesterday and..."

Kitty groans and then laughs a little as she glances first at John and then at Jubilee. She's blushing and he thinks it makes her even prettier, if that's possible.

"Yeah, this is new... but it's all good, ok, Jubes?"

Jubilee blinks rapidly and takes a step back. John lets out a grunt of frustration and then raises up the hand slightly that is holding Kitty's.

"Is that alright with you,_ Jubilation_?"

Kitty draws closer to him and Jubilee finally closes her mouth.

"Yeah... I mean sure... I gotta go now, chica. Pyro... wow... I want all the deets later, kapish?"

Jubilee turns and walks away quickly and Kitty seems to be blushing harder. John puts his arm around her loosely and starts to walk down the hall.

"You_ do_ know the whole school is going to know about us in about twenty minutes, right?" she asks as she leans into him slightly.

John thinks it may only take ten. Nearly every person walking by them does a double take. Some are better at hiding their reaction than others, but the over sized Russian, Peter Ras-something or other, nearly knocks over a kid half his size looking at them instead of where he's going._ Better keep your eyes to yourself, Colossus_, John almost says out loud, but Kitty looks up at him expectantly, still waiting for an answer.

"Oh...Yeah, probably. Does that bother you?" He asks, suddenly unsure and hating the flash of insecurity he feels.

"No. It really doesn't."

As if to prove it she stops him, right there in the middle of the hallway with people looking at them curiously, until she has his full attention. He frowns in question and she gives him a half smile with mischief in her eyes.

"Com'ere," she says softly and she stands on her tippy toes. She wraps her free arm around his neck and brushes a kiss quickly against his lips.

He's a little shocked and sure he looks it, so he covers it up with one of his cocky grins. She rolls her eyes.

"_My_ girl," he says as a statement of fact.

"Yeah," she agrees, then she nods her head forward with a grin. "Com'on. Walk me to class."

He walks with her, feeling better than he has in he doesn't know how long. It takes him awhile to realize the lighter in his pocket is all but forgotten. The feel of her hand in his is infinitely better.

* * *

A/N: The end for now! This is more of an epilogue than an actual chapter, but ah well. I love these two! I love how innocent, brand spanking new and fluffy their affection is for each other.

I already have started to write the sequel for this story. I contemplated continuing the story here, but... we all know Pyro and we know the story of the movies. Dark, angst filled days are coming. They are going to have to fight with everything they have to remember the innocent way their relationship started. When I post the separate sequel, I will let you know! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.

especially:

Anita, Sunnybrook, BrilliantDarkness, mylyricsaremylife, elea121, lachlanrose, and doctorg! You guys are amazing.

Stand alone shout out to JayLaw; beta, cheerleader and awesome friend. Thank you, girl. :)


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